Page 69 of Summer People
Without acknowledging his granddaughter, Blue places the two dark green trays on the table.
Eddy’s eyes go wide. Libby gasps. Mrs. K groans. Wilder, naturally, laughs.
“Do not put those on my table.” Mrs. K points at the already frozen ice trays.
“What? I thought pine tree–shaped ice would be perfect. Fitting for Maine.” Blue’s eyes dance with mischief. He knows damn well that the water has been frozen in the shape of anal plugs,nottrees.
“I want a Christmas tree ice.” Lindsey claps.
“Me too,” Sutton chimes in.
Mrs. K and Eddy both watch in horror as Blue drops the “trees” into the girls’ cups before moving on.
With the largest piece hovering over Libby’s glass, he smirks at me. “It’s a bit of a tight fit here. Fisher might need to work it in better.”
I shake my head, biting back a laugh. Libby is doing her best not to smile. Under the table, I pat her thigh. She shifts, butinstead of pulling away, she crosses her legs, trapping my hand between them.
All I’d have to do is shift my pinkie just a little…
“Th-thanks,” Libby stutters as my finger brushes the lace of her panties. Instead of pushing my hand away, she flexes her thigh muscles, holding me in place.
My dick jumps in my pants. Fuck, this is going to be a long-ass dinner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
fisher
Two hours felt like fifty.Dinner dragged on. The walk home was never-ending. I swear it’s never taken so long to get Sutton ready for bed. Time crawled all night long, all because I’ve been counting down the minutes until I can have time alone with the gorgeous blonde who’s taken up residence in my home.
After the quickest shower in history, I threw on a pair of gray sweats and followed the sound of Libby’s voice. I found her in Sutton’s room, readingCharlotte’s Web.
She doesn’t just read the words the way I do. No, she acts out the story. The voice of Charlotte the spider is so different from Wilbur the pig. The expression she puts into each word is impressive.
The girls are snuggled together in Sutton’s bed. Sutton’s under the pink quilt. Libby, in those tiny-ass shorts, sits with her legs curled under her on top of the covers. A strange battle rages inside me. Utter relaxation—a sense of peace, knowing my girls are content—mixed with a surge of desire at the sight of Libby.
I want to leave her here so she can giggle with Sutton and make her smile forever, and yet I want to wrap her in my arms, hold her close, and refuse to share her. Is this what it’s like forparents? Loving their child while craving their partner? Peace and desire existing on different planes, though bearing the same weight?
“That’s it?” Sutton whines as Libby closes the book. “One more, please? He’ll never know.”
Chuckling, I step into the room. “Oh, yes he will.”
“Darn it.” Sutton slumps into the zillion pillows on her bed. Pink hearts and white squares and even a tiara-shaped pillow. She always needs one more. Must be a girl thing.
“We can read the next one tomorrow.” Libby straightens the bookmark and setsCharlotte’s Webnext to the moon lamp.
I click on the LED light and drop a kiss to the top of Sutton’s head. “Sleep well, sweet pea.”
After she’s doled out hugs, I shut off the light and close her door.
I’ve been thinking of nothing but this moment for hours, but now, as we move into my room, an awkwardness hangs in the air.
Libby stops in the middle of the space, shifting on her feet, her attention downcast. “Is this a mistake?”
The breath leaves my body in a hard whoosh. “Mistake?”
She lifts her shoulders slightly and lets them fall. “You and Sutton have this perfect little life here, and my life…” She nibbles her lip, her eyes still averted.
I keep my mouth shut, wanting—no,needing—to hear her worries.
